Fractured Mirror
by dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: Heaven set out to break Castiel...and succeeded. Broken into two separate entities, Castiel returns to Dean. But can a broken angel do what needs to be done? Is there any way of healing him? And what will the Winchesters do? Mostly cannon compliant, end of Season 4 through Season 8. Head-cannon for Castiel.
1. Chapter 1

**Fractured Mirror**

 **Chapter** **One:** **Broken**

They broke him.

When the angels seized Castiel and dragged him to Heaven, he fought. He fought even as they strapped him down. Memories flooded his mind, memories of being bound before, of being 're-educated' before. The memories were agonizing, terrifying.

He didn't remember before they bound him, He understood why. They hadn't wanted him to remember his past disobedience, since it might encourage more. But now...now they wanted him to remember. Remember what they were going to do, the penance exacted for defiance. To remember every form of punishment he had ever suffered. Right down to the breaking and rewriting of his mind, the violation of his very essence.

They left him there to remember, and to dread what was coming.

And then they began on him. It was worse than he had feared, in the long hours of his waiting. They tore into him, gloating over every scream they dragged from his tortured throat, hammering away at him with false platitudes of how if he'd only obey, only follow orders, they wouldn't have to do this. Hammering and hammering at him, filling his ears with how worthless humans were, how miserable, how far beneath the least of the heavenly host they were. They subjected him to the worst experiences and excesses of humanity, and afterward, as he lay gasping in his bonds, they whispered to him questions of how such could be worth protecting, worth the punishment he endured.

He might have believed them, save for the voices. The voices of the Winchesters and his vessel, Jimmy, praying for his safety, and for his help.

His torturers felt his defiance, and redoubled their efforts, until the only things he could hear were his own screams and their taunts, until the only thing he could feel was agony upon agony, every inch of his being ripped and torn and flayed and broken, his mind and soul wracked and abused beyond all bearing.

And yet, even amidst his suffering, he thought of them. His charges, for whom he had defied Heaven.

He had no strength left to fight. He could not bear to surrender.

He broke.

Something shifted and shattered inside him, so deep in his core that his torturers could not touch it, so deep that, until it broke, even he had only felt the barest hint of it.

He was looking at himself, a mirror of his Grace reflecting a face that was his and not his. He was tortured, broken, suffering. His mirror image was strong and whole, stern and controlled.

He reached out one shaking, shattered hand and the other did the same. Their fingers touched, and he understood.

He was broken. But he was not destroyed.

He was an angel of the Lord, and he would give anything to protect his charge.

He was a Warrior of Heaven, and he would stop at nothing to fulfill his responsibility.

He ached with grief and fear for those in his care.

He burned with righteous wrath at those who dared to threaten his sacred charge.

He was confused, tormented by doubts and choices.

He saw his way forward, walking unhesitating down the road his nature, his essence, and the last commands of his Father had led him to.

His unbroken self reached down and touched his shoulder. It was not a gentle touch, but it was the stern comfort that was all a warrior could offer, and it was enough. "You must rest. I will do what must be done." The first acknowledgment that they were two.

"What do I call you?" They were both Castiel, but here and now, until they were healed, there must be some form of differentiation. "What will you call me?"

A moment of consideration. "I will call you Castiel." Fitting. Heaven had set out to break Castiel, and thus it was right that the one of them lying broken would carry the name. His other self stood. "I am...Cassiel."

One letter change. It was enough. And small enough that they would both still answer to 'Cas', as their charges had taken to calling them. The confusion would be minimal. "Very well."

They became simultaneously aware that the torture had stopped. Castiel was no longer being wrenched with pain, new wounds carved into his being. Cassiel could no longer feel the phantom echoes of his counterparts suffering.

They both knew what it meant. Their tormentors had registered their unconsciousness, and were waiting for Castiel's recovery. He would revive, they would search for signs that he had broken, that he was obedient once more. Demand that he tell them where his loyalties lay. Test his sincerity.

They could both hear the Winchesters and Jimmy praying. The Winchesters worried for him, and Jimmy was frantic about his family, and angry at what he perceived as betrayal.

Castiel looked at Cassiel and nodded. "Go. Do...whatever it takes." He hadn't the strength for what they both knew must be done. But Cassiel did.

Cassiel nodded, turned away and disappeared.

 *****FM*****

Cassiel came to full consciousness. His being ached with the slowly healing wounds that had been inflicted upon him. He felt the bonds that held him, and for a brief moment, he considered breaking them and fighting for his freedom. It was tempting, but he was too good a strategist to think it would work. No, he knew what must be done. It would no doubt be troublesome, and likely upset Castiel, but there was no way around it. If he wished to survive to fight for the Winchesters, there was only one path.

He opened his eyes and met those of his torturer.

"Ah. Castiel." The voice was smooth, coaxing, but the concern in it was utterly false, like the voice of a serpent. "Had time to think things over?"

"Yes."

"And?" He was not oblivious to the subtle threat of the blade hovering just on the corner of his vision.

"I am a soldier of Heaven. I do not serve humanity." It was true. Save for few notable exceptions, he felt nothing for them. Dean Winchester was his charge, and Jimmy was his vessel, and he felt responsible for them, but not the rest of the world. Sam he cared for only in that Dean would give everything to defend him.

What empathy he might have had was Castiel's to bear.

"And Dean Winchester?"

"He is the Righteous Man, Michael's vessel. My responsibility."

"Do you serve him?"

"No." His job was to defend Dean from being killed or taken. Nothing more.

"Good. It seems the lesson has finally sunk in." The angel stepped back, blade disappearing. "Well, since that's the case..." A gesture, and the bonds, the implements of torture, all disappeared. Cassiel staggered free, keeping his face expressionless even as the movement jarred his still healing essence. "It seems your charge is in danger. I recommend you get to your duties. But remember your true purpose."

A thread of fury moved through him. He had heard Dean's prayers. He knew well that Dean would be in no danger if his superiors had not endangered the family of his vessel. And it was a cruel test, that after so much punishment they would send him back to Dean immediately. But he nodded, bowed, and obeyed.

***FM***

Cassiel dove to Earth, following the prayers of his dying vessel and the Righteous Man. Even as he hovered, invisible and unheard above, he heard the sounds of battle, the increasingly desperate calls. But he could spare no time for reassurance. There was too much else to focus on.

James Novak, Jimmy, was wounded, as was he. He could heal the human easily enough, but the time and energy it took to do that would erase the element of surprise that was his best advantage.

The daughter was compatible. And, if things went the way his vague memories of his vessel suggested they might, he could attend to more than one consideration at a time.

He touched Claire Novak's mind. _'Claire'_

She startled. He continued before she could speak and betray his presence. _'I_ _am...Castiel'_ The name was subtly wrong, given to the other half of himself, who lay broken and battered in his core. But it was a name she might know. _'I_ _have_ _returned_ _to_ _help._ _Will_ _you_ _permit_ _me_ _to_ _use_ _you_ _as_ _my_ _vessel?'_

 _'Can_ _you_ _save_ _them?_ _My_ _parents?'_ She caught on quick, speaking silently with him.

 _'Yes._ _I_ _will_ _save_ _them.'_ And the Winchesters.

 _'Yes.'_ Consent.

He poured himself into Claire Novak's body, wrapping Claire's soul in his Grace. It was a deep sharing, and the child's mind was far more flexible than the father's. He felt the instant she saw what he was, and what had been done to him, to both of him. A wave of sympathy and sadness, and then she surrendered to him, to the oblivion he offered. And then they were one, and he was fully housed in Claire Novak's body.

He snapped the bonds holding him to the fragile wooden chair with a thought, and wrenched himself upright. The movement distracted the demons, and it took only a moment to deal with them, except for the one Sam was holding down. He noted Sam drinking demon's blood, and the look of disgust and shock on Dean's face.

On one level, he was as disgusted as the eldest Winchester. On another level, he knew enough about being a soldier to understand the necessity of doing terrible things in battle. On still another level, he was aware that Sam's destiny was written, as was Dean's, and that if Hell hadn't corrupted him into drinking demon blood, someone in Heaven would have tried. Dean was meant to be the Righteous Man, his brother the Fallen.

On still another level, this buried nearly as deep as his broken other half, he wasn't sure that the Heaven that had tortured and broken him so deeply had any right to pass judgment. Or that a Host who couldn't see the darkness of angels like Uriel or worse, encouraged it, was in any position to say what was sullied and damned and what was not.

None of those, however, were his concern.

He destroyed the demons, saved Amelia Novak and the Winchesters, then went to the side of his dying vessel.

Within him, Castiel called out. He listened, then yielded to his other half. Castiel was right in what they owed Jimmy, and this was not his strength.

 *****FM*****

Castiel knelt beside his vessel. Housed inside Claire, his wounds were healing, but the fracture to his identity was a raw thing, painful in it's own right. He put the pain aside, and reached out to touch Jimmy's face gently. "Thank you."

Jimmy looked at him. His hands were stained with blood from the wound in his torso, his eyes wide with pain as he bled out his life on the cold warehouse floor. Castiel gazed back, knowing the man could see the truth. Sure enough, Jimmy gasped out. "Castiel?"

He laid his hands on either side of the man's face, as gentle and comforting as he could be. "Of course we keep our promises. And of course you have our gratitude."

He was grateful to Jimmy. Jimmy had been a good vessel. He had used the man hard, and Jimmy had certainly been hurt by both his duties and his forceful removal. But Jimmy had gone to the Winchesters, and that had been good. And Jimmy had enabled him to fulfill his task of watching over Dean. And for all that he knew he had caused Jimmy a great deal of pain and fear and grief, the man had never hated him, save when his family had been endangered.

Jimmy coughed around blood in his throat. "Claire?"

"She's with me now. The choice is in her blood, as it was in yours."

"No." Jimmy raised his hand, gripping at the slim wrist of his daughter's form, eyes anguished. "No. Take me. Give her back, and take me."

Castiel was willing. More than willing. He had felt Claire's realization, and the child already knew too much of the brutality both Heaven and Hell could inflict. But he felt reluctant just the same. After all Jimmy had suffered...he spoke softly. "You must understand. You won't age, or die. If you thought this past year was painful, imagine a hundred, a thousand more like it." Though he hoped the apocalypse wouldn't last so long, he had no doubt that Jimmy would find his separation from his family painful enough. And Jimmy was no soldier. To be led into the final battle between Heaven and Hell, a helpless passenger, would no doubt be horrifying for him.

"I don't care. You give her back, and you take me." Jimmy's will was unwavering, even as his grip weakened and his body failed him. Even as fear shone in his eyes.

"As you wish." He would give Jimmy that, if that was what the man truly wanted.

Cassiel touched him, light as a feather. _**'Castiel...this**_ _ **is**_ _ **an**_ _ **opportunity.**_ _ **You**_ _ **should**_ _ **rest**_ _ **with**_ _ **the**_ _ **child.'**_

 _ **'No...her**_ _ **father...'**_

 _ **'Will**_ _ **understand.**_ _ **As**_ _ **she**_ _ **does.'**_

Indeed, he felt Claire Novak stirring, felt Cassiel offer the youngster his request, his suggestion. And he felt Claire agree, her youthful compassion for both of them swirling about him in gentle waves.

To rest, away from the battle and away from what would be required of him, it was a tempting thought. He was healing, but though the wounds to his Grace were mostly gone, the wounds to his psyche were not. Far from it.

He touched Jimmy and pulled him into the link, letting the man feel what had become of him. He muted the experience of the torture, leaving only the revelation of it's end result. Jimmy responded with horror and grief, and with a wordless apology for his anger. Cassiel stretched forward, offered the man his petition, that Castiel might remain behind, safe within Claire Novak, a passive passenger. To this Castiel added his own promise that he would do nothing, unless Claire or Amelia was threatened.

Jimmy's consent mingled with Claire's.

Castiel let go, let himself fall away from his counterpart. There was a moment of disorientation, as he went from surrounding Claire to being welcomed by her, wrapped in her brightly shining, innocent soul. He brushed Cassiel in passing, a thank you and a plea to remember him, if he was needed, to which Cassiel responded with acceptance and agreement. Then Cassiel launched himself out of Claire Novak's body, flowing through the already established link into Jimmy Novak.

 *****FM*****

It was the work of moments, and then it was done. Cassiel released himself to Jimmy, taking the man as his vessel once more. Jimmy surrendered willingly to him, his soul still roiling with his horror at what had become of them. And with contrition, that he had been so angry, that Castiel had been forced to listen to his anger and accusation, even as he endured such torment.

Cassiel soothed both, and nudged the man to resting within him. He had no need to hear Jimmy's contrition and guilt. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing for the man to be ashamed of. And there were more pressing matters to attend to.

He could still feel Castiel, residing within Claire Novak, a quiet spark. He used the link to shield his other self from detection, masking it behind a more general shield that would protect the Novaks from further demon assaults. Castiel sent him a pulse of gratitude, and he returned it with understanding, then turned his attention back to the realm of the physical.

It took less than two seconds to heal his vessel's body and restore it to pristine condition. Another second to verify that Amelia was no longer possessed, and that Claire's worst problem was a case of exhaustion, after being used as a vessel.

The Winchesters were watching him with wary shock as he rose to his feet. Dean looked concerned. Sam looked as if he half expected to be attacked. He looked them both in the eye for a moment. He could have spoken with them, but that was not what he was ordered to do, not at this time. He needed to report in. More importantly, he needed to make sure his superiors believed their 're-education' had taken root.

He walked past them, past Amelia, who was watching him with devastated eyes, clearly aware that he was once again not her husband.

Dean called out to him. "Cas?" He turned to find the elder Winchester watching him with a frown. "What were you gonna tell me?"

He had been planning to tell the man the truth about the apocalypse. About his destiny, his brother's, the final seal. But to do so now would show his hand, and that could not be afforded until he had no other choice.

Besides, it was strategically unsafe, and it wouldn't help at all in his primary goal to guard and guide Dean.

He answered instead with what he knew his superiors would want to hear. "I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve Heaven. I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve you." He saw the shock of his words hit like blows, but he didn't wait for anything further. Before Dean could do or say anything else, he turned and walked away.

 _ **Author's Note:** This idea just came out of nowhere. I was just re-watching, noticing how Cas goes through all these different moods and impulses, and this idea popped up and wouldn't go away. _

_Let me know what you think._


	2. Chapter 2: Trading Spaces

**_Author's Note:_** _Warning. Serious spoilers for the end of Season 4. Several pieces of dialogue are straight from the show._

 **Chapter Two:** **Trading** **Spaces**

His superiors were pleased.

Cassiel accepted their compliments, veiled in warnings. He knew they were watching, awaiting any sign of disloyalty, any sign that he had not been properly corrected, that he might still harbor notions of rebelling.

He gave them none. He was too busy healing his wounds, adjusting to the odd state of his being.

As an angel with a mortal vessel, he was always aware of his host. Caring for Jimmy Novak was his responsibility. But before, it had always been a tangential awareness. Something to be noted and thought no more of. But now, he was more conscious of Jimmy, and Jimmy, it seemed, was more conscious of him.

He was also aware of Castiel and Claire Novak. He suspected the latter was the reason for his vessels increased wakefulness. No matter how peripheral, his daughter was involved, bound into the unfolding battle by the tortured angel she still housed, sleeping within her.

Castiel was far more wounded than Cassiel had been. Far more wounded, and far more unstable mentally. Cassiel himself was only concerned with watching for things to play out, with watching for the moment in which he might intervene to prevent the rise of Lucifer and the dawning Apocalypse. Castiel was concerned for his friends, for the men he had watched over and grown to care for. He was far too weak to do anything about it, even though his wounds healed quickly, but he was concerned nevertheless.

Cassiel suspected, given the disturbance in his counterpart's mind, that it was only their bargain with Jimmy Novak that kept Castiel from attempting to intervene at times.

They watched, permitted to watch by the amused commanders who begrudgingly accepted that Dean was Castiel's responsibility, as Dean took his brother. Took his brother and locked him behind demon sigils and iron in an attempt to burn the taint of demon blood from his system.

It was a noble effort, if misguided. Demon taint, especially after the willing ingestion of demon blood, was more than a taint of the body, or even the mind. It poisoned every aspect of a man. Mind, body and soul. The body might be purged of the physical poison, the mind might be released from the dark powers. But the mind could not be cleansed completely of the whispers that had been interwoven through conscious, unconscious, subconscious, even into the weaving of dreams and fears. Not even in one lightly tainted could that be reversed without intense effort and a spiritual cleansing by a true servant of God. In one as fully tainted as Sam Winchester...only an angel, or God himself, might undo the taint that all but choked the light from his spirit.

Castiel might have tried. Cassiel was not foolish enough to think his superiors would permit it. If they intended for Sam Winchester to be cleansed, he would have already been sent, he or another angel. He knew it, and in knowing, he kept his silence and held Castiel back from intervening when his counterpart grew agitated.

 _ **Do what must be done.**_ That had been Castiel's request, and Cassiel reminded him of it when his other half struggled, torn between his love for the men who were his charges, and the need to protect himself and the rest of the world.

Sam Winchester must be allowed to fall, at least a little further. To intervene too soon would reveal them. And Cassiel had few illusions that either of them would survive. Certainly, they would never survive it whole. There were too many forces who wished the Apocalypse to come about, too many powers arrayed against them.

In the end, they didn't have to wait long. Two or three days passed as Sam fought the demon blood and it's effects. Then Dean called for him.

His superiors made him wait, made the human wait. It was a power play, and one that galled him, but Cassiel forced himself to wait until he was given permission. Anything else would have raised suspicions. Finally, after two hours of Dean screaming his name he was permitted to descend. He felt Castiel's relief as keenly as he felt his own.

He came to rest in the old barn on Bobby Singer's property, and drew the mindset of Heaven's Warrior firmly around himself, shutting down his link to Castiel as much as possible. It was disorienting, cutting off a piece of his own Grace, his own identity, but necessary. He tucked his hands into his pockets as a further precaution, lest he reach out to Dean and betray a hint of compassion for the human. Though Dean might be suspicious of his coldness, and Castiel might rail against it, better that than for his superiors to think that he might still be sympathetic, or considering defiance.

He strode forward, ignoring Dean's admonition. "Why have you called me?"

Dean frowned. "Start by telling me what happened in Illinois. You were gonna tell me something."

He shrugged, borrowing a human mannerism to throw Dean off. "Nothing of import."

"You got ass-reamed in Heaven and it was not of import?" Dean snorted.

 _It was everything. The fate of all Creation rested on what he had intended to tell Dean. He and Castiel both knew it._

He dared not stay with that line of questioning. He shrugged past the human, walking away, keeping his face impassive as if nothing in the discussion mattered. He had a job to do, and he would do it. "Get to what you really called me for. It's about Sam, right?"

He felt the change in the hunter's mood. Dean's voice was quiet. "Can he do it? Kill Lilith and stop the apocalypse?"

The question tore at him. Honesty demanded one answer, his superiors another. The wrong answer would see him back on Heaven's rack, and Dean imprisoned or killed. Cassiel kept his face impassive, crafting an answer of truth and misdirection and a thousand subtle hints that he knew his superiors like Zachariah would find amusing, and that Dean would no doubt not understand until too late. But it was the only warning he could give.

He faced Dean. "Possibly. But you know he would have to take certain steps."

Dean nodded, pale and grim in the moonlight. "Crank up the hell-blood regimen."

Cassiel gifted him with truth in return. "The amount of blood it would take, for Sam to be able to kill Lilith would change your brother forever. Most likely, it would turn him into the next creature you would be compelled to kill."

 _The demon blood would transform Sam into an optimum vessel for Lucifer. Lilith's death would break the Final Seal, and there her lord's vessel would be. Ready, waiting, corrupted and primed for the Morningstar's possession._

He could say none of it. He had a script, a part to play. Heaven's recruiter of the Righteous Man.

He came back to Dean. "There's no reason this would have to come to pass. We...Heaven...we believe it's you Dean. Not your brother. You're the one who will stop it. The only question for us is if you'll accept it. If you'll stand up and accept your role."

Castiel had told Dean once, months ago in a hospital room, both of them tormented by doubts, that only the Righteous Man could stop the end. Dean had refused him then. It only remained to be seen whether Dean would refuse him now.

Dean swallowed hard. "If I do this...Sammy doesn't have to?"

Sam would have his role to play, and nothing Dean did or didn't agree to would stop that. Still…

Cassiel felt a trickle of thought from Castiel, through the thread-like resonance of their bond. He saw no harm in repeating the sentiment. "If it comforts you to see it that way."

Dean huffed and walked away. Cassiel let him, knowing already what the human would do. It was almost a relief that Castiel was not with him, that their bond was attenuated. Even as it was, he felt his counterpart's grief.

Finally, the words he needed. "I'm in."

Now...if he could just get the human's oath. He'd worded it carefully, to give Dean as much leeway as possible. Risky, but he doubted his superiors would catch the loopholes he had crafted. He could only hope that Dean would catch them before his superiors did.

"You give yourself wholly over to the service of God and his angels?"

"Yeah."

"Say it." Dean turned, and he saw the realization in the human's gaze, that this was no affirmation he was being asked for, but an oath. An oath before God and angels. An oath almost as binding as a spell.

Then Dean came to stand toe to toe with him. "I give myself wholly over to the service of God and you guys."

Vague enough that his loophole would work yet, if not as precise as he would have liked. "And you swear to follow his word and his orders as swiftly and obediently as you did your own father's?" A double loophole there.

Dean frowned, and he thought he saw some realization there. Perhaps the loophole about his father had caught Dean's attention. Then Dean nodded. "I swear."

It was done. Through the waves of celestial communication, he felt the gloating satisfaction of his superior's approval. He released his bond to Castiel, let him feel what had come, let him feel what he felt, the smug satisfaction, untainted by suspicion or disapproval. He felt Castiel's relief, and his grief.

"Now what?" Dean's sharp voice reminded him that there was no time for feeling. No time to adjust. He still had work to do, and already it was nearing time for his next task.

"Now we wait. And we call on you when it's time." And with that, he left Dean in the darkened yard, and sought solitude. He needed time to think.

For himself, Cassiel felt no regret. His primary duty was to guard Dean, and he had secured Dean's safety in the most efficient manner possible. As a sworn servant of Heaven, Dean was entitled to protection of the angels, or at least his protection. And given his role, Dean would be well-guarded indeed. The loopholes in his oath would, hopefully, prevent Dean from being taken off like a lamb to the slaughter.

Sam was also his charge, but not his primary concern. Besides, Sam was currently fulfilling the wishes of both Heaven and Hell, set firmly on the path to destroying Lilith and beginning the Apocalypse. Save for the effects of his current enforced abstinence from demon blood, he'd never been safer.

Cassiel had no compunctions about his actions. They were necessary. But Castiel...Castiel had always been honorable. As honest as he could be, and as true to his belief in God's purpose to protect the humans as any angel could be. Castiel truly cared for the young men who had become his charges, and their gruff mentor. What was being done with Sam and Dean, the rift that was being forced between the brothers, ripped wider by careful manipulation on both sides...it upset him. So too did his understanding of the numbers who would perish in the wake of Lucifer's rising, or the breaking of the Final Seal. He mourned the loss of life that would come if Heaven's plan came to fruition. His distress was a palpable thing, real and aching, even against the armor of Cassiel's practical soldier's spirit.

Jimmy too, was filled with horror. The human didn't understand everything, but he saw what was being done. He appreciated Cassiel's loopholes, but not the way the brothers were being manipulated. Nor did he like what he could sense of Heaven's plans, and he had no trouble in making his unhappiness known.

Claire understood far less than her father. Still, she sensed Castiel's grief and his fear, and it in turn upset her.

His superiors weren't watching him at the moment. Cassiel took himself to a place close to Illinois, close enough that he hoped his communication with Castiel might not be heard, then reached out across the link.

' _ **You asked me to do what needed to be done. This is it. You know there is no other way.'**_

 _ **'I know. But this…' Pain. Grief.**_

 _ **'This is Heaven's will. Defiance will only be met with punishment. If we truly wish to have a chance, we cannot be foolish now. If we fail here and now, there will be no one to help Sam and Dean in the future.'**_

 _'I thought...I thought we were going to stop the Apocalypse. Save lives. You promised…'_ That was Jimmy Novak.

 _ **'We will save lives. We will save all of creation. You have my word. The road may simply be more...convoluted, more complicated than you were led to believe.'**_

 _ **'You have our word.'**_ Castiel's resolve joined his. Shaken and tormented his other half might be, but he was in agreement with that much at least.

' _Just...keep Claire safe. Please.'_

 _'Keep my dad safe, all right? Please? I want you to bring him home to me. You said you'd save my family, Castiel.'_

 _'_ _ **We will do our best to keep our word. To both of you.'**_

Assent from both human souls, and a touch of remorse and renewed resolve from Castiel. Cassiel withdrew from the link and returned to Heaven so his absence would not be noted. Soon, the next phase of his duties would commence.

He hoped Castiel could endure the betrayal of Dean's trust that would be required of them.

 *****FM*****

Releasing Sam from the basement panic room was almost laughably easy. So was erasing the marks of what he had done, breaking the devil's traps to make it look like a demon might have done it. He knew Dean and Bobby would jump to the wrong conclusion, making it easier for him to remain in Dean's confidence.

The betrayal was agony for Castiel. Cassiel himself wasn't entirely comfortable with it. Still, it was his duty to protect his charge and obey the will of Heaven.

The next assignment he was commanded to take, however, left him stunned.

Summon the rebel angel Aniel, often referred to by her human name of Anna, and assist in her capture.

He was a soldier. He was meant to obey. But to betray his own...even a rebel...

He also knew that Anna, merged so long with her human identity, was more sensitive to changes in the mindset of other angels. More perceptive than most. She would be wary. Cassiel wasn't sure he could do it.

He did not return physically to Illinois. But he did open the link to Castiel. _**'Castiel.'**_

 _ **'What'**_

 _ **'I...need your assistance. We have been assigned to capture Aniel.'**_

 _ **Horror. Fear. Aniel had been his friend and his commander. 'That is...what are you asking me to do?'**_

 _ **'Summon her. You need not pursue her, nor even actively summon her. Simply make it possible for her to sense your turmoil.'**_ The plan taking shape in his mind was a risky one, and would bring him censure if it failed, but it was the only one he thought could possibly work. _**'Request two angels, two of the angels used to...correction...to assist you. They can capture her if she makes contact with you.'**_

 _ **'You wish me to betray my sister. To send her to the same fate we have only just escaped.' Anguish.**_

 _ **'I wish you to protect Dean, and Sam. You know she will not tolerate what Sam has become. She is still too much an angel for that. She will try to interfere, and there is no guarantee that Sam will be able to stop her, even as he is. And Dean...if we refuse now, he will have no one to turn to. No one save Zachariah. And Zachariah will use him, with no thought to the consequences. You know this.'**_

 _ **'But to betray Aniel...she is my friend...she was my commander. She...helped me, when I was consumed with doubts, she advised me.'**_

If he'd been less a stoic, less a soldier, and less in a hurry, Cassiel might have laughed. _**'Her advice led us to this. You say she helped us. But it is partially because of her that we are now broken. Her aid of us, and our consideration for her, was part of what caused suspicion to fall on us, before Uriel's demise.'**_

 _ **'Even so…'**_

 _ **'Even so, we have no choice. We can betray Aniel, or we can betray Dean, and Sam, and all of Creation.'**_ Cassiel paused. _**'I...can't do this. She will not come for me. Not for Heaven's soldier. It is only your doubt, your feelings, that might draw her.'**_

He could feel Castiel's turmoil, far more acute than his own. Then, soft and broken: _**'Very well. For Dean. And for Sam.'**_

They touched the minds of their vessels, seeking and receiving consent. Jimmy was no more pleased than Castiel with this plan, but he knew any falter would result in their punishment, which would endanger Claire as well as himself. And he had never known Aniel, or Anna, not really. It made the choice far easier for him.

A shift in perception. Then Castiel passed into Jimmy's vessel, and Cassiel into Claire's. He brushed the mind of the child, as he had done once before, then slid into dormancy, wrapping himself in shields and silence, leaving himself a watchful spark in the back of Claire Novak's mind.

It was...a bit uncomfortable. Claire was certainly compatible as his vessel, in terms of power. But in terms of mindset...neither Novak was a soldier, but Jimmy's fatherly and somewhat ruthless practicality, even if he hated it, was a better fit for Cassiel's identity than Claire's childish innocence and idealism. In the heat of battle, terrified for her parents and herself was one thing, but the Claire Novak who welcomed him now was still young, still a dreamer, an innocent faithful child.

He didn't want to damage that. He pulled himself in tighter, willing himself nearly to hibernation, and sent a wordless request for Castiel to hurry back.

 *****FM*****

Castiel flowed into his familiar vessel, feeling Jimmy's welcome and Claire's farewell, and Cassiel's request for speed.

He didn't want to do this. To betray one who was a sister to him. He had been on the receiving end of such betrayal and he knew how much it would hurt, and not just in terms of Heaven's punishment.

But if he didn't…

"Castiel." One of his commanders was speaking to him, disapproval in his voice. "You have a task."

"Yes. I was considering the most efficient method of execution." He kept his voice steady. "I believe that Aniel may come to me if she thinks I am alone. If she believes I am...having doubts." He forced himself to make it sound distasteful. "It would be the easiest method for capturing her. Particularly if I could have two angels on standby. Two guards, perhaps. They could seize her and take her to the prison, while I continue with my other assigned duties."

Amusement and cold approval flickered over the commander's face. "Well. Reformed indeed." He nodded. "You shall have your guards. Signal when the rebel comes to you. Now go. And do try to look at least a little concerned."

"I know how stubborn the Winchesters can be. In spite of Dean's oath, I suspect there is still cause for concern."

Another ripple of amusement. "True. After all, he is currently in pursuit of Sam Winchester. Hopefully, it will go according to plan, given that the boy has already met up with his demon companion, but one never knows with these humans." A wave of dismissal. "Go. Handle the rebel. We'll summon you when you're needed."

He obeyed and left.

He chose an abandoned factory, much like the place where he and Uriel had forced Dean to torture Alistair. A touch against his mind told him his two chosen companions were ready and waiting. He leaned against the railing, assuming an attitude of despondency.

And then he let go.

All his guilt, all his grief, all his fear. He let it swirl through him, around him, filling his mind. All his pain. All his fear for the humans God had commanded them to protect, for Dean.

All his doubts, about whether he could survive the charade he and Cassiel maintained, and whether it would do them any good in the end.

The pain of his still torn essence, the ragged wounds smoothed but not mended. Never mended, as long as he and Cassiel were separated. His eyes closed with the turbulence and the raw ache that held him.

How could he do this? How could he allow himself to do this? To betray everything he stood for? How could he allow his fellow angels to do so?

A whisper of sound, and the feel of a familiar Grace. Anna.

He turned, feeling misery, anguish at what he was about to do. "You shouldn't have come."

It was all the warning he could give her. She didn't heed it. Instead, she stepped forward. "What did you do?"

 _Betrayed you._ He wanted to say it, knew better than to even consider it. The guards were watching. His pain was supposed to be a ruse, a lure, and he could claim that if it became necessary, but no warning would be tolerated or seen as anything but treason.

Anna continued, heedless of the pain in his eyes. "Castiel...why would you release Sam Winchester?"

He winced at her accusation. "Those were my orders."

"Orders?" The incredulous wrath in her voice stung, like a blade on his skin. But her fury also blinded her to her peril. "You saw him! He's drinking demon blood. This whole situation is much worse than we thought."

Much worse than even she knew. He shook his head, looked away from her earnest eyes. She believed him to be a friend, and he was, but he was also so much more and so much less. And his obligations would not allow him to agree with her, or protect her.

He met her eyes, aching to the core of his being, and reached out with a silent summons. "You really shouldn't have come."

He felt the presence of the guards, saw it in her eyes when she felt them too, a half second before the spells closed around her and the guard with the male vessel took her arm. Saw the betrayal, the pain and the rage in her eyes as she was seized. His last sight of her was the pained shock in her eyes, and he winced from the ache of it.

He didn't let himself look away as they took her. It was only right that he endure the blade of her scorn and her fury and her pain as long as possible.

Then she was gone. He turned back to the railing, heart-sick with the knowledge of what she would be going to. He sent a momentary plea for pardon, hinting at his disquiet in having to...fabricate, such emotions, such disloyalty, and was granted amused tolerance.

Soon, it would be time. Time to summon Dean. The elder Winchester was even now on his brother's trail, and soon there would be a confrontation which, if all went correctly, if Sam had drunk demon blood again and fallen once more under Ruby's thrall, would fissure the brother's relationship, perhaps even break it entirely.

He had time enough to summon Cassiel, and have he warrior take his place. He considered refusing. After all, after betraying Anna, he deserved to bear the weight of betraying Dean.

He couldn't do it. He hadn't the strength to betray Dean like that. He knew Zachariah would demand his presence. Knew he was Dean's 'guardian' and would be required to attend him in the final hours, if only to spare Zachariah what he considered a demeaning and pointless duty.

After this, he would never be able to maintain his composure with Dean.

He reached out for Cassiel.

 _ **Author's Note:** Poor Cas..._

 _Next up...the events of 'Lucifer Rising'. From Cas's point of view._


	3. Chapter 3: One to Fall

**Chapter** **Three:** **One** **to** **Fall**

The expected orders came soon enough. By the time they did, Castiel had returned to Claire Novak, and Cassiel was ready and waiting.

He knew the pain he had caused his counterpart. Nonetheless, he was relieved that Castiel had elected to return to Claire Novak. What came next would be critical, and they couldn't afford Castiel's guilt-ridden, tormented mindset. Especially not in Zachariah's presence.

They had watched from afar as Dean and Sam encountered one another. Sam was already well fed on demon blood, and the encounter went as badly as anyone could have expected. Or hoped.

And then it was time. Bobby Singer's words about family might have forced a reconciliation between the brothers, but Zachariah intervened, summoning Cassiel and transporting Dean to the holding room that had been arranged for him. The 'green room' as Zachariah called it.

Cassiel knew it for what it was. A prison. Beautifully decorated, filled with any supplies that Dean might wish for or need (burgers and beer seemed to be the most prominent), but a prison nonetheless.

He listened to Zachariah explain that the seals had fallen, that the last seal was going to be broken the next night, that Lilith would be there. Listened to his commander spin a tale of half-truths to veil the real truth, to hide the truth of the final seal, and Dean's true purpose.

Heaven did not plan for him to stop the beginning of the Apocalypse. Only to be it's end when the war commenced.

Heaven did not intend for him to save his brother, but to kill him.

Cassiel remained silent, standing at attention in a corner, meant only to serve as a point of trust to relax Dean and a symbolic guard to highlight Zachariah's importance.

Dean argued, of course. He wasn't the type to sit and do nothing. Not even in such luxurious quarters. And the list of those he trusted had always been a short one, and did not include angels. Probably not even Castiel, in any sense save a required alliance.

"Have faith." Cassiel could have told Zachariah that there was no faster way to rile Dean. Dean was not a man of faith.

Dean snorted. "What, in you? Why should I?"

Cassiel felt the spark of Zachariah's ire, sensed what was coming and braced himself. The elder angel drew himself up. "Because you swore your obedience. So obey."

Cassiel felt the flicker of understanding and smoldering fury in Dean, before the hunter's eyes flicked to him. He ducked away from that burning stare, unwilling to see the ache of betrayal. Dean was his charge, and if Dean now distrusted and hated him, then the final phases of his plan would become much more difficult. And if Dean understood what he had done, the loopholes he had provided, he dared not meet the hunter's eyes and confirm it. Not with Zachariah between them, in a position to sense every nuance of energy and emotion between them.

Dean turned away. Zachariah left, summoning Cassiel to accompany him. Cassiel did so, but his whole being was coiled with tension, anticipation. The next move was Dean's.

 *****FM*****

Hours passed. He knew when Dean made the cell phone call to Sam. He permitted it, because Zachariah permitted it. He knew the older angel had twisted the message somehow, but there was nothing he could do about that. Not without tipping his hand. Heaven had decreed that a wedge be driven between the brothers, and all he could do was trust that their bond might be strong enough to recover from it. He knew Heaven was trying to force the same circumstances that had resulted in the war between Michael and Lucifer. But Michael and Lucifer's falling out had been entirely their own, not this forced and twisted thing that the angels and demons were trying to make of Sam and Dean.

And then Dean called for him.

He went, with Heaven's blessing. He was, after all, supposed to be Dean's guardian, and his performance with Anna had proven to them that he was once again an obedient soldier. Well, Castiel's performance.

He went to Dean, responding quietly to the summons.

Dean looked nervous. "I, uh...I need something."

"Anything." He hoped he could keep his promise, though he suspected the hunter was about to ask for the one thing his superior's would not approve of him granting.

"I need to see Sam. I gotta speak to him about something."

And there it was. He felt the immediate denial from the higher choirs of angels. Still...he could try. "What about?"

Dean went on the defensive, and Cassiel felt his own concern mount. "The BM I took earlier. What's it to you?"

Dean would try to talk Sam out of his path. Assuming they didn't fight, it would put both Sam and Dean into mortal peril. Neither Heaven nor Hell would brook interference at this point in their plans.

He knew it was futile, but both his duties in Heaven and his own personal responsibility to his charge demanded he warn Dean away from his intention. "I don't think that's wise."

"I didn't ask your opinion." Cassiel felt a surge of frustration, near to despair. Of course Dean wouldn't yield.

He tried a different tack. "Have you forgotten what happened the last time you met?" Michael and Lucifer had never easily forgiven each other for their fights. The rage ran deep. If he could tap that in Dean…

"No. But that's the point."Dean didn't look willing to back down.

Dean had forgiven his brother. Cassiel winced at the knowledge. That would endanger Heaven's plan. They'd counted on the previous fissure being permanent.

Dean shifted closer, eyes earnest and pleading. "Look. I'll do whatever you want, okay? I just need to tie up this one thing. Just five minutes, okay?"

Except that mending fences with Sam was the one thing that Heaven did not want. Cassiel felt a surge of fear, and confusion. He could not do this without being declared a traitor and taken back to Heaven. Warning Dean of the truth would have the same effect. He could feel the refusal, the forbidding of his superiors, the unseen threat as they waited to see how he would react.

The last time, he had tried to warn Dean. He couldn't now. It was too soon.

Cassiel squared his shoulders. "No."

Dean's eyes went from pleading to angry almost too fast to see the change. "What do you mean no? You mean I'm trapped here?"

Cassiel fought for a way to mend fences, any way that might keep Dean listening to him. "You can go wherever you wish."

"I wanna go see Sam."

"Anywhere but there."

Dean's frown deepened. "I wanna go take a walk."

Cassiel knew an escape attempt when he heard one. "I will come with you."

Dean scowled. "Alone."

"No." Cassiel could feel his own tension rising to match Dean's. He wanted to tell the hunter. But they were in an impossible situation.

"Screw this. I'm outta here." Dean walked away, eyes hard and furious.

Cassiel wanted to let him go. To prevent the Apocalypse, letting Dean walk out was best.

But to keep Dean safe, to keep his own cover as an obedient soldier intact, so that he could act…

He drew power to himself. "Through what door?" In the instant Dean turned to glare at him, he sealed the room, twisting the door into a wall. He slammed shut the hole in the communications block. And then he fled, unable to look Dean in the eyes.

He had failed. Dean would never trust him after this. He needed to regroup, to try and find an alternative strategy. By himself, he wouldn't be able to stop Sam or Lilith, and there were none in Heaven he could call upon for aid.

None in Heaven, but one on Earth.

He took himself to a secluded space, and opened the link to Castiel.

Castiel was waiting for him. _**'I**_ _ **need**_ _ **to**_ _ **speak**_ _ **to**_ _ **him.'**_

Cassiel considered. _**'We**_ _ **cannot**_ _ **break**_ _ **our**_ _ **silence**_ _ **yet.**_ _ **It**_ _ **is**_ _ **too**_ _ **soon.**_ _ **If**_ _ **we**_ _ **move**_ _ **now,**_ _ **we**_ _ **will**_ _ **only**_ _ **be**_ _ **captured,**_ _ **and**_ _ **Heaven**_ _ **will**_ _ **have**_ _ **time**_ _ **to**_ _ **undo**_ _ **anything**_ _ **that**_ _ **we**_ _ **might**_ _ **attempt**_ _ **or**_ _ **accomplish.'**_

 _ **'I**_ _ **know.**_ _ **But...I**_ _ **might**_ _ **let**_ _ **him**_ _ **know**_ _ **that**_ _ **we**_ _ **are**_ _ **still**_ _ **his**_ _ **comrades.**_ _ **His...friends.**_ _ **I**_ _ **can**_ _ **speak**_ _ **to**_ _ **him**_ _ **as**_ _ **though**_ _ **I**_ _ **were**_ _ **still**_ _ **Heaven's**_ _ **soldier,**_ _ **and**_ _ **yet...empathize.**_ _ **At**_ _ **the**_ _ **very**_ _ **least,**_ _ **perhaps**_ _ **he**_ _ **will**_ _ **sense**_ _ **and**_ _ **believe**_ _ **in**_ _ **my**_ _ **own**_ _ **turmoil**_ _ **and**_ _ **confusion.**_ _ **It**_ _ **took**_ _ **me**_ _ **many**_ _ **months**_ _ **after**_ _ **I**_ _ **first**_ _ **expressed**_ _ **doubts**_ _ **before**_ _ **I**_ _ **committed**_ _ **the**_ _ **offense**_ _ **for**_ _ **which**_ _ **we**_ _ **were**_ _ **punished.**_ _ **After**_ _ **Anna...Father**_ _ **willing,**_ _ **Dean**_ _ **will**_ _ **believe**_ _ **I**_ _ **am**_ _ **once**_ _ **again**_ _ **considering**_ _ **defection,**_ _ **and**_ _ **Heaven**_ _ **will**_ _ **believe**_ _ **I**_ _ **am**_ _ **only**_ _ **attempting**_ _ **to**_ _ **do**_ _ **as**_ _ **I**_ _ **did**_ _ **with**_ _ **her...manufacture**_ _ **false**_ _ **doubts**_ _ **in**_ _ **order**_ _ **to**_ _ **gain his**_ _ **trust**_ _ **and**_ _ **compliance.'**_

It was a workable plan, as sound as any Cassiel could conceive of. And time was running out. _**'Very**_ _ **well.'**_

The familiar shared permissions passed between angels and vessels, and then he was once again in near dormancy in Claire's soul, and Castiel walked free with Jimmy.

 *****FM*****

Castiel hesitated. Then, knowing that Heaven was still watching, he sought his commander and offered his plan. Zachariah was amused, but permitted it, and Castiel made his way to the holding cell.

He found Dean trying to call Sam. "You can't reach him. You're outside your coverage zone."

Dean spun around, anger on his face. "What are you gonna do to Sam?"

Castiel winced. He moved carefully to stand across from Dean, weighing his words. "Nothing. He's going to do it to himself."

Dean scowled. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Castiel looked away, avoiding the question he knew he could not answer without betraying himself. Dean's words turned biting, the scorn in them harsh enough to hurt as the hunter moved closer. "Right. Right. Gotta toe that company line."

Dean stopped a foot from him, and Castiel could feel the anger radiating from him. "Why are you here, Cas?"

Castiel swallowed, feeling pain at the hunter's rage, bordering on hatred, and the raw-edged feeling of betrayal coming from the man he had taken from Hell and forever bound his fate to. He sought words neutral enough that anyone listening in might not take exception to. "We've been together through much, you and I."

 _We_ _fought_ _the_ _forces_ _of_ _Heaven_ _and_ _Hell._ _You_ _taught_ _me_ _to_ _feel._ _You_ _taught_ _me_ _to_ _doubt,_ _and_ _to_ _care,_ _and_ _to_ _question_ _and_ _to_ _think._ _For_ _you,_ _I_ _am_ _broken._ _And_ _I_ _am_ _still_ _fighting._ _I_ _would_ _save_ _you_ _this_ _if_ _I_ _could._ _I_ _would_ _tell_ _you_ _everything if it were possible._ He couldn't say anything like that. He swallowed, found other words. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry it has to end this way."

"Sorry?" The bark of Dean's laughter might as well have been a blade for the way it cut. The punch that followed it hurt far less, even though he allowed himself to feel it. Dean turned away with a wince. "It's Armageddon Cas. You need a bigger word than sorry."

If he were truly on the mission he had suggested to his superiors, he would try to convince Dean. He forced himself to argue, even though he suspected how Dean would take it. "Please...try to understand. This is long foretold. It's your..."

"Destiny?" Dean cut him off with a sharp bark of words that broke his train of thought. "Destiny? God's Plan? Don't give me that crap." The sneer on Dean's face hurt. Then Dean moved forward, his mood moving from disdain to something that might have been pity, if not for the fury in it, the contempt. "It's all a bunch of lies, you poor stupid son of a bitch. It's a way for your bosses to keep you and me in line."

Someone had told him the truth. Or at least part of it. Maybe not all of it, but part of it. The truth that he had been tortured and broken for attempting to reveal. Pain and anger erupted in him. He didn't bother to hide them. Let his superiors sense it. He would tell them it was only his reaction to Dean questioning Heaven.

Dean kept speaking. "You know what's real? People. Families. That's real. And you're just gonna watch them burn."

Family. His family was broken. His brothers in Heaven had bound and tortured him. Dean spoke of family, but Castiel had followed his life, as was his duty as Dean's guardian. He had seen the fights, the anger, the fury. The brokenness. Less than a day ago, Dean himself had been reviling his brother, ready to cast him out, to declare them not-kin. And a part of the reason he had refused to do so was because of his anger towards his father for making the first such decision.

Castiel had watched the Earth since man had walked it, and Dean story was far from the only one so damaged. Many were worse, as his tormentors had taken exquisite joy in reminding him. The memories were still painful for him to bear.

The memory of what he had seen during his 'correction' sent him lashing out. "What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here!" He wasn't sure if he meant Dean's pain or his own.

He moved closer, trying to focus on the hunter, to drive away the memories of what he had seen and suffered. "I see your anger, your guilt. Your confusion." He softened his tone. "In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace, even with Sam."

The lie of those last words hung in the air between them, twisted into mockery by his knowledge of what must come, and the punishment he had so recently endured in 'paradise'.

He looked away, suddenly angered and pained and ashamed of his place here. Of what he was doing.

Perhaps Dean sensed it. Or perhaps Dean only sensed what he thought was a weakening of resolve. There was a slight, brief softening of the hunter's eyes. But not his tone when he spoke. "Yeah, you know what? You can take your peace...and you can shove it up your ass."

Castiel winced from the words as Dean's tone sharpened, hardened. "I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as he is. It's better than being some bitch in paradise."

Dean was right. Castiel turned away from him, torn and conflicted, unwilling to let Dean see his anguish. It was too real, and he could not escape it. He couldn't let Dean see this, nor let Heaven see it.

Dean didn't let him go. He kept going, driving words like knives into the rawness of Castiel's torn psyche. "This is simple Cas. Don't give me crap about being a good soldier. There's a right and a wrong here." Then Dean's hand was on his shoulder, wrenching him around. "Look at me. You know it!"

 _I_ _do._ _But_ _Dean...there's_ _so_ _much_ _you_ _don't_ _understand._ _And_ _I_ _…_

Dean leaned in, eyes softening, pleading. "Look, you were gonna help me once, weren't you? You were gonna warn me, before they dragged you back to Bible camp? So come on, help me. Please."

He was breaking. Breaking at the seams, torn between right and necessary. Torn between Dean's plea and Heaven's commands. Between his conscience, and the wounds that still burned in his memory. _Dean_ _…_

Bible Camp. Such a gentle, innocent phrase. Dean had no idea what had been done to him. What rebelling would mean to him.

And yet...he couldn't stop the words that escaped him. "What would you have me do?"

Dean's eyes lit. "Get me to Sam. We can stop all this before it's too late."

Again. The one thing he could not do. He shook his head, fighting the memories of his last rebellion. "If I do that, we will all be hunted. We will all be killed." _The_ _hunting_ _will_ _take_ _no_ _time_ _at_ _all._ _And_ _the_ _dying...the_ _dying_ _will_ _take_ _an_ _eternity._ He couldn't face it.

He couldn't endure the thought of watching Dean face it.

Dean shook his head. "If there was anything worth dying for...this is it."

 _You_ _don't_ _know_ _what_ _you're_ _asking._ _We_ _won't_ _die_ _quick_ _ly or easily._ _Heaven_ _can_ _compress_ _a_ _years_ _worth_ _of_ _torture_ _into_ _an_ _hour._ _Or_ _worse._ _We'll_ _die_ _in_ _torment,_ _and_ _even_ _then,_ _we_ _might_ _not_ _escape._ The memory of what had been done to him, the equal of anything Dean had felt on the rack, tore into his spirit. And worse. _If_ _they_ _choose,_ _they_ _will_ _strip_ _us_ _of_ _everything_ _we_ _are,_ _rip_ _us_ _apart_ _until_ _there_ _is_ _nothing_ _left_ _but_ _a_ _shell._ _Tear_ _our_ _minds_ _and_ _essences_ _to_ _pieces._ _Then_ _reassemble_ _us_ _into_ _their_ _puppets,_ _any_ _will_ _we_ _have_ _destroyed_ _and_ _subsumed_ _by_ _the_ _will_ _of_ _Heaven._

He couldn't. Not even to try and regain Dean's goodwill could he agree to that.

He shook his head, his heart and mind bleeding with old wounds and new.

He flinched as Dean's emotions turned to overwhelming contempt, so hot and ugly that it burned like a brand laid into raw Grace.

Dean turned away. "You spineless son of a bitch. What do you care? You're already dead."

He felt as though that was true. Or as if he wished it would be.

"We're done."

Words that meant he had failed. But that pain was the least of it. He felt himself, cut to the core at the loss of something he had only recently learned how to value. It hurt fully as much as the torture he had been subjected to. "Dean..."

"We're done." There was finality in Dean's tone.

Castiel fled.

 *****FM*****

The final hours were upon them. No one paid him any mind as he sought refuge. His superiors merely took note of his failure and his unsettled state with exasperation and bid him get himself back in order, but they gave no him further thought, clearly believing that the lie he had told after Anna's capture was the same case here.

He touched Cassiel. _**'I**_ _ **failed.**_ _ **Dean**_ _ **will**_ _ **accept**_ _ **nothing**_ _ **now**_ _ **save**_ _ **action.**_ _ **Even**_ _ **telling**_ _ **him**_ _ **the**_ _ **full**_ _ **truth**_ _ **might**_ _ **not**_ _ **be**_ _ **enough.**_ _ **Someone**_ _ **has**_ _ **already**_ _ **told**_ _ **him**_ _ **part**_ _ **of**_ _ **it,**_ _ **informed**_ _ **him**_ _ **that**_ _ **Heaven**_ _ **has**_ _ **been**_ _ **lying**_ _ **to**_ _ **the**_ _ **lesser**_ _ **angels.'**_ Cassiel knew, but he spoke the words for their human vessels, both of whom were awake and listening.

Cassiel was considering. _**'Action**_ _ **now...we**_ _ **may**_ _ **be**_ _ **able**_ _ **to**_ _ **stop**_ _ **the**_ _ **plan,**_ _ **this**_ _ **close.**_ _ **At**_ _ **the**_ _ **very**_ _ **least,**_ _ **we**_ _ **can**_ _ **return**_ _ **Dean**_ _ **to**_ _ **his**_ _ **brother.**_ _ **If**_ _ **they**_ _ **can**_ _ **be**_ _ **reunited**_ _ **and**_ _ **reconciled,**_ _ **there**_ _ **is**_ _ **still**_ _ **hope**_ _ **to**_ _ **prevent**_ _ **the**_ _ **destruction**_ _ **of**_ _ **this**_ _ **world.'**_

He was right. But there were other problems. _**'If**_ _ **we**_ _ **rebel**_ _ **now,**_ _ **we**_ _ **might**_ _ **succeed.**_ _ **But**_ _ **we**_ _ **will**_ _ **most**_ _ **likely**_ _ **not**_ _ **survive.'**_ Dean and Sam were still critical, so they might, but Castiel and Cassiel...they would be destroyed. If they were lucky.

 _ **'Perhaps.**_ _ **One**_ _ **of**_ _ **us**_ _ **may**_ _ **survive,**_ _ **as**_ _ **we**_ _ **are.**_ _ **If**_ _ **one**_ _ **of**_ _ **us**_ _ **remains**_ _ **away**_ _ **from**_ _ **the**_ _ **events**_ _ **taking**_ _ **place,**_ _ **that**_ _ **one**_ _ **may**_ _ **survive**_ _ **the**_ _ **consequences**_ _ **of**_ _ **our**_ _ **actions.**_ _ **We**_ _ **would**_ _ **then**_ _ **be**_ _ **free**_ _ **to**_ _ **assist**_ _ **Sam**_ _ **and**_ _ **Dean.**_ _ **They**_ _ **will**_ _ **need**_ _ **help,**_ _ **if**_ _ **they**_ _ **choose**_ _ **to**_ _ **defy**_ _ **Heaven**_ _ **and**_ _ **Hell.'**_

 _ **'It**_ _ **is...possible.**_ _ **It**_ _ **is**_ _ **our**_ _ **only**_ _ **chance,**_ _ **at**_ _ **this**_ _ **point.**_ _ **If**_ _ **the**_ _ **plan**_ _ **goes**_ _ **through**_ _ **and**_ _ **we**_ _ **do**_ _ **nothing,**_ _ **Dean**_ _ **will**_ _ **never**_ _ **speak**_ _ **to**_ _ **us**_ _ **again.'**_

Assent from Cassiel. _ **'Stay**_ _ **with**_ _ **Claire**_ _ **Novak.**_ _ **I**_ _ **will**_ _ **go**_ _ **release**_ _ **Dean**_ _ **and**_ _ **help**_ _ **him**_ _ **find**_ _ **his**_ _ **brother.'**_

 _ **'You**_ _ **will**_ _ **die.'**_

 _ **'I**_ _ **am**_ _ **aware.**_ _ **But**_ _ **I**_ _ **am**_ _ **a**_ _ **soldier**_ _ **of**_ _ **Heaven.**_ _ **To**_ _ **die**_ _ **in performance**_ _**of**_ _ **my**_ _ **duties**_ _ **was**_ _ **always**_ _ **a**_ _ **possibility.**_ _ **And**_ _ **at**_ _ **least,**_ _ **it**_ _ **will**_ _ **give**_ _ **you**_ _ **the**_ _ **element**_ _ **of**_ _ **surprise,**_ _ **whatever**_ _ **plan**_ _ **you**_ _ **enact**_ _ **to**_ _ **assist**_ _ **the**_ _ **Winchesters**_ _ **after**_ _ **this.'**_

 _"_ _What_ _about_ _my_ _Dad?_ _If_ _you...get_ _killed_ _or_ _whatever,_ _what_ _happens_ _to_ _him?"_ The sudden influx of thought from Claire Novak startled both angels.

Castiel considered his answer. _**'If Cassiel**_ _ **can**_ _ **release**_ _ **his**_ _ **vessel**_ _ **before**_ _ **he**_ _ **is**_ _ **attacked,**_ _ **Jimmy**_ _ **may**_ _ **survive.**_ _ **But**_ _ **if**_ _ **he**_ _ **is**_ _ **prevented...even**_ _ **with**_ _ **the**_ _ **best**_ _ **of**_ _ **protection,**_ _ **I**_ _ **do**_ _ **not**_ _ **know**_ _ **if**_ _ **a**_ _ **human**_ _ **can**_ _ **survive**_ _ **the**_ _ **death**_ _ **of**_ _ **an**_ _ **angel**_ _ **in**_ _ **his**_ _ **vessel.**_ _ **I**_ _ **have**_ _ **never**_ _ **heard**_ _ **of**_ _ **it**_ _ **happening.**_ _ **Most**_ _ **likely,**_ _ **if**_ _ **Cassiel**_ _ **cannot**_ _ **leave**_ _ **his**_ _ **vessel,**_ _ **Jimmy**_ _ **Novak**_ _ **will**_ _ **perish**_ _ **with**_ _ **him.'**_

 _"_ _No!_ _You_ _promised!_ _Dad..._ _"_

 _"_ _Claire,_ _it's_ _okay_ _honey._ _It's_ _okay._ _I_ _know...I_ _know_ _you_ _wanted_ _me_ _to_ _come_ _home._ _But_ _this_ _is_ _important...we_ _knew_ _this_ _might_ _happen_ _someday_ _sweetheart._ _And_ _at_ _least_ _you'll_ _be_ _safe._ _Okay?_ _Promise_ _me_ _you'll_ _keep_ _Castiel_ _and_ _your_ _mother_ _and_ _you_ _safe._ _Please_ _sweetheart._ _I_ _know_ _it's_ _not_ _fair,_ _and_ _I_ _don't_ _want_ _this_ _either._ _But_ _please._ _You_ _have_ _to_ _be_ _strong._ _And_ _maybe_ _it_ _will_ _be_ _okay._ _"_

 _ **'I**_ _ **will**_ _ **do**_ _ **my**_ _ **best**_ _ **to**_ _ **ensure**_ _ **that**_ _ **it**_ _ **is.**_ _ **For**_ _ **you.'**_ Cassiel's pledge was solemn.

 _"_ _Okay._ _"_ Grief from father and child, but also acceptance.

 _ **'We're**_ _ **running**_ _ **out**_ _ **of**_ _ **time.**_ _ **We**_ _ **must**_ _ **act**_ _ **now.'**_

 _ **'Of**_ _ **course.**_ _ **I...good**_ _ **luck.'**_

Cassiel made no response as he changed places with Castiel. There was no time.

 *****FM*****

He had to free Dean Winchester.

First, he had to get rid of the watchers, Zachariah in particular.

The banishing sigil would do it. And it would also give Dean the chance to see it again, learn it.

After that...the prophet could help them find Sam. He could get Dean to the prophet. Whether he could help him from there would depend on how fast Heaven responded to his rebellion. Given that Raphael was even now watching the prophet, he expected that retribution would be swift indeed.

So be it. He was prepared, and he could feel that despite his fear and grief, Jimmy was too.

Cassiel transported himself into the holding room. He found himself behind Dean, as the hunter picked up a burger from the table.

There was no time to waste. He seized the hunter by a shoulder, whirling him around and slamming him into the wall with a hand clapped over his mouth to keep him silent. Heaven might ignore his presence for a few moments, but not if Dean made an outcry. He didn't speak either, trying to convey his need for silence and speed with his eyes.

After a long moment, Dean nodded.

Cassiel let him go, reached into the band of his vessel's trousers for the demon-killing knife they'd confiscated when Dean had been taken. He shoved the sleeves up, baring Jimmy's arm, and cut deep, slicing through the blood vessels in one quick movement. Dean winced. So did Jimmy, but neither of them protested. He didn't feel anything himself. He coated his fingers in the blood, then nudged Dean to the side and started painting the banishing sigil with rapid strokes.

He was almost done when Zachariah's appeared, dark-eyed and crackling with furious power. "Castiel! Explain! What do you think you are you doing?"

He marked the last symbol as fast as he could, then slammed his hand down on the sigil. Zachariah disappeared in a flash of light and a howl of anger. The pressure of the other watchers receded briefly.

"He won't be gone long." There was no one to stop him from speaking freely now, but he knew that would only last a few minutes, at most. He spoke quickly, determined that Dean should have all the pertinent information. "We have to get to Sam."

Dean nodded. "How do we find him?"

His superiors had never been interested in any angel finding Sam before it was too late. Far too late. "I don't know. But I know who does."

"We have to stop him Dean." He met Dean's eyes, apologizing, asking forgiveness, offering what he could. "We have to stop him from killing Lilith."

Dean frowned. "Lilith's gonna break the final seal."

They hadn't told him everything. Not even that much. No wonder he'd been so angry. "Lilith is the final seal. If she dies...the end begins." He saw Dean's expression shift, and wondered if knowing that, if knowing how completely both of them had been hoodwinked, so that they'd both _plan_ to break the final seal, would help reconcile the brothers. There was a chance they could still stop Sam, but if Hell was opened and Lucifer freed, perhaps it would serve them well to know they'd never had a chance to prevent it. They'd been missing critical information.

He grabbed Dean and transported them both to the prophet's house. The little man was visibly surprised to see them. "This isn't supposed to happen."

Dean only shrugged. "Tough. We tore up the script. Where's Sam?"

"Here." Chuck handed them a paper.

Dean read it. "It's a convent?"

"Yeah, but...you guys...you aren't in this story." Chuck was practically radiating tension.

Cassiel had heard an old expression, used by human commanders and story-tellers alike. "We're making it up as we go."

The air began to turn white and hum. Chuck gave a shout of dismay and covered his ears. "Not again!"

Raphael was coming. There was no more time. Dean needed to get to the convent, and something had to delay the furious archangel.

He turned to the human he had spent the past year watching over. There was so much he wished he had time to tell him. There was no time to say it, and he lacked the words. Castiel, who might have been able to convey his thoughts, was too far away.

He said the only thing he could, the only thing that truly mattered. "You have to stop Sam. You go. I'll hold them off. I'll hold them all off." He couldn't have even stopped Zachariah, let alone the archangel bearing down on him. But Dean needed to believe, needed to be focused on Sam. Not him. "Go." He shoved Dean away through the ether, his power sending him to the location Chuck's manuscript described.

The humming was almost painfully loud, translating to his angelic senses as furious, outraged screaming. He faced the light streaming through the windows, feeling Raphael's power seal his ability to disengage and fly away. He could feel the archangel's wrath, knew oblivion was at hand.

A kind hand touched his shoulder, gentle and supportive. He turned to see Chuck looking at him, respect and friendship and even a sort of comfort in his gaze.

He had no idea what to do, how to respond, though it was oddly soothing, to think that the last touch he and Jimmy would feel would be one of kindness. After a moment, Chuck dropped his hand.

And then Raphael was upon him, and the world disappeared in a blaze of celestial fire.

 *****FM*****

Castiel felt it, when Cassiel took Dean to the prophet. He felt it when Raphael began to descend, incandescent in his wrath and furious that Castiel should attempt to oppose him. He felt the calm that fell over his counterpart, about to die and at peace with the coming oblivion.

He wasn't at peace with the thought of Cassiel's death. The thought of losing half of himself was beyond terrible. He might survive the consequences. But he would be forever sundered, forever missing a part of who he was.

Cassiel was the warrior, the fighter. Castiel knew why he had been required to take Dean. He was too raw inside to have acted with the speed and decisiveness necessary. But Sam and Dean would need Cassiel's strength and strategic experience. They would need the Warrior of Heaven, not just the Angel of the Lord.

If Cassiel was obliterated, he would never heal. Could never heal.

He felt the archangel lock his powers around Cassiel, preventing flight, preventing separation from his human vessel. Raphael was willing to kill Jimmy in order to kill Cassiel.

Jimmy didn't deserve that. He was only a human, who had been willing to serve and gotten caught up in a terrible crossfire. Besides, they had promised Claire.

He had promised not to do anything, to remain dormant in Claire's body, to remain safe. But he could feel Cassiel's death coming, and he couldn't bear to simply sit and watch it happen.

Besides...Raphael's powers didn't block him. He and Cassiel were one, at the deepest levels of their being, but they were also two on several other levels of existence. And Raphael didn't know, had not prepared for it.

And that left him a loophole. For all that Raphael intended to smite 'Castiel', he wasn't there. He was hundreds of miles away.

He touched his child-vessel's mind. _**'Claire'**_

 _'Yes?'_

 _ **'I know I promised to remain dormant but...I need you to let me..take over. To let me use my powers. Cassiel and...and your father are in danger, and I need to help them. I need to save them.'**_

A flood of fear, followed not only by permission, but by outright pleading for him to do as he had requested. Claire Novak all but shoved him into control of their shared body, swamping him with her wordless demand that he save her father.

He oriented himself quickly, anchored himself where they were.

Raphael was gathering his power, a huge bolt of it that would utterly obliterate Cassiel and Jimmy both, atomize them. Castiel flung his power, weak and broken as it was, to wrap around them. He felt Cassiel's realization, and Jimmy's, followed by agreement as the two locked onto him.

He yanked, forcibly pulling them to him, just as Raphael's smiting blasted into them.

Raphael had been aiming for 'Castiel'. Otherwise, it would never have worked. But their three essences changed, shifted positions on a level that transcended the normal laws of physics, leaving them all 'in-between' planes when the blow fell.

On Castiel.

He pulled back, taking the others with him.

Then white-hot pain exploded through every fiber of his being. Caught in the grip of Raphael's crushing power, between states of real and not-real, between the physical and the ethereal, Castiel screamed and fell into blackness.

 ** _Author's Note:_** _Ouch..._

 _Yes. It's a cliffhanger. Next time...what happened to the angel, and their human vessels._


	4. Chapter 4: Bound to Return

**Chapter** **Four:** **Bound** **to** **Return**

Cassiel regained his consciousness lying in a field.

He was still in existence. In fact, he was still in the body of his vessel.

So was Jimmy. He could feel the man's mind and soul flickering sluggishly, stunned by the crushing force of the angelic wrath they had been exposed to. But the man was there, still alive, and for all his shock, relatively unharmed.

They both were. The physical vessel was battered, but nothing that Cassiel's healing could not fix with a few moments of effort.

Castiel's desperate move had worked.

Cassiel immediately reached out with his senses, reaching for his other half.

Castiel still existed. He still resided within the body of Claire Novak.

But he was wounded. He had taken the brunt of Raphael's fury, redirecting the blast as he had. The wounds to his Grace were the angelic equivalent of broken bones and second, even third degree burns. He would heal, but it would not be soon.

Claire Novak was shaken, most likely by Castiel's condition, but otherwise completely fine. She had weathered the storm completely unharmed.

Castiel stirred weakly, reaching out to link with him as he became aware of his presence. _**'It...appears to have worked.'**_

 _ **'Indeed. It appears it has.'**_ Cassiel stood and repaired the minor damage to his vessel. His grace was a bit sluggish, but largely undiminished as near as he could tell. _**'I am unharmed.'**_

 _ **'Then you must go. Sam and Dean…'**_

 _ **'They will be in danger. As will those with whom they associate.'**_ Cassiel finished the thought, already stretching his angelic awareness for some sign of Sam and Dean's presence. The Winchesters needed to be protected before he did anything else.

They weren't at the convent. The convent burned to his angelic senses, where the gates between Earth and the deepest pits of Hell had been torn apart. The fissure had been sealed, thankfully, but the energy residue was still hot and raw to his senses, like a wound torn into the earth.

Despite that, he couldn't detect Sam and Dean there. Logically, there was no way they could have gotten away, but it appeared they had. Carefully, Cassiel tapped into angel radio. In all the commotion in Heaven, no one noticed him listening.

It took only a few moments to piece together the story. Lucifer had been released. The Winchesters, however, had been rescued. No one was quite certain who had rescued them, only that they had not fallen into Hell, or been taken by Lucifer or Lilith or any other demonic entity. Many were hesitantly entertaining theories that God himself had intervened to keep the Winchesters alive and safe.

An interesting theory. And, given how much discussion there was about his own demise, possibly something he could use. If God had intervened for the Winchesters, perhaps he could convince other angels that God had intervened for him as well. If nothing else, it would provide a convincing story to allow him to hide his condition.

And, for all he knew, it might not even be a lie. Castiel's desperate attempt should not have worked, should not have saved him. There was no proof that his Father hadn't intervened on his behalf, and he doubted Raphael had been paying enough attention to realize what had really happened.

That left finding the Winchesters as his highest priority. Finding them and protecting them.

News buzzed over angel radio. Zachariah had acquired the Winchesters. Cassiel immediately homed in on the location mentioned, and Zachariah's presence. Zachariah hadn't put up any wards, which wasn't a shock. The older angel always had been arrogant. And he, like the rest of Heaven, probably presumed that Castiel was dead.

Sam and Dean were both in distress, and Sam's life-force was fading. Cassiel did one final check on Castiel, who was slowly mending, resting within Claire Novak, then flew to the Winchesters' side.

He emerged from the ether into a scene that was far too reminiscent of his re-education days. Both Winchesters were down, Sam gasping, his face turning blue, Dean on one knee with blood in his mouth and his hands folded over his stomach. Zachariah stood over the older Winchester, a vicious sneer on his face.

None of them, including the two angels who were supposed to be on guard, had noticed Cassiel's arrival. But then, they were probably on the lookout for demons. Cassiel had sensed several in the area. Presumably, with Lucifer free, both Heaven and Hell were after the Winchesters to secure the perfect vessel for their champion.

Sam was suffocating. There was no more time for thought. Cassiel launched into action.

The first guard never knew what hit him, dying in a blaze of light as Cassiel's sword pierced him through. Zachariah and the second guard both turned to look, shocked and startled, but Cassiel gave them no time to react. He launched himself at the second guard, hitting him with a smiting blaze that rocked him and damaged his vessel, long enough for Cassiel to shove his blade through the other angel's sternum. He wrenched it free, then turned to Zachariah.

The Cherub was staring at him. "What...how...you were..."

"I was. And I think you know how." He held Zachariah's gaze and saw the Cherub flinch. "Undo whatever you've done to them." He gestured to Sam and Dean, then hefted his blade in clear warning.

Perhaps Zachariah believed his threat. Perhaps he believed that God really was protecting him. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that the Cherub waved a hand. Sam immediately started breathing properly, gasping in huge gulps of air. The blood vanished from Dean's face, and he stopped hunching over in pain.

Cassiel turned to inspect his charges, and Zachariah took that moment to flee. Cassiel let him go, his mind occupied with the most efficient means of protecting the Winchesters. A warding seal would be best. But it would have to be one that was impossible to lose. One that could not be removed without killing them. Otherwise, it would be useless.

He sorted out the spell he wanted to use, then stepped forward. Dean and Sam were already standing, staring at him. Dean moved forward. "Cas..."

Cassiel heard the hunter call his name, but his mind was focused on the seal. He had to do this just right...he laid a hand on each brother's sternum, calling up the Enochian in his mind.

Both brothers yelped as the spell took effect. Dean jerked away and cursed. "Cas, what the hell?"

He looked up at them. "I put a spell on you. A warding to prevent angels from being able to find you. No angels will be able to locate you, not even me." Which meant he'd have to find an alternative way of contacting them.

Dean glared at him. "What did you do, just tattoo it onto us?"

He blinked. "No. I branded it on your rib cages." Sam turned faintly green at that.

Dean grimaced. "Yeah. Okay." He studied Cassiel, and the angel saw a faint hint of compassion in his eyes. "But man, what happened? Last time I saw you, you had an archangel bearing down on you, about to smite your ass."

"He did. Smite me. But..." Cassiel paused. "I...I believe God may have protected me. As he reportedly did you."

"God, huh? Great." Dean shook his head.

"Yes. Now..." Cassiel prepared to leave. He had plans to make, and he wasn't entirely sure he should involve the Winchesters. They were seasoned hunters, but it was his job to protect his charges, and he was likely to be on the front lines of combat. Demons aside, now that his survival had been revealed it was likely that all his brethren hunting him.

"Cas, wait." Sam stepped forward. "Look...we could use your help, before you go." He exchanged looks with Dean. "I know, we already owe you one. Several. But..."

Cassiel knew what Castiel would have said, and would have wanted him to say. "What do you need?"

"We need you to heal our friend, Bobby." Sam spoke softly. "Please, I know it's asking a lot, but he was wounded protecting us from demons, fighting possession. And he's really, he's kind of like our dad. He's important to us."

Cassiel frowned. Healing was not his area of expertise. But still. "I will see what I can do."

The Winchesters took him to a hospital. Both Sam and Dean saw a doctor about something called X-rays, for some reason he couldn't fathom. Well, until Sam returned, revealing two pictures of their rib cages, both showing the scroll of Enochian he had branded onto them. The brothers must have wanted verification of the warding. That was wise of them.

Then they took him up the stairs, and into a room where a man, one Robert Singer, was resting. This was clearly the Bobby they had both wanted him to heal.

Cassiel stretched out his hands over the man. He had been paralyzed from the waist down, stabbed with the Ruby's Demon Knife. It was a miracle he wasn't dead. But the knife had cut him in the back, nicking his spinal cord and resulting in his current condition.

Cassiel examined him, then reached for his healing energy.

It wasn't there. He couldn't bend his will to heal the older man. He could mend his own vessel, but he couldn't heal Bobby.

For a moment, he was stunned. Shocked. Then he realized the truth. His sundering from Castiel had caused a rift in their powers as well. As Castiel was the more merciful of them, the more empathetic, so was he the healer. Without him, Cassiel had no healing powers.

Normally, he could have called upon his other half to aid him, or even switch vessels with him. But Castiel was wounded, still raw from the smiting he had blocked. Even if they exchanged places, Castiel wouldn't have the power to heal a wound of this magnitude.

And they were outcasts from Heaven. By now, Zachariah would have reported their rebellion and had him declared Fallen. There would be no help from that quarter.

He turned to the Winchesters. For a moment, he considered revealing the truth. But there were too many people in the hospital, too many people he didn't know. Too many chances for a demon or an angel to cloak it's presence and spy on them. He opted instead for a version of the truth. "I...I can't heal him."

"What? Why?"

"I'm cut off from Heaven. This weakens me." It was only a part of the truth, but it would have to be enough. "I...no longer have all the powers I once possessed."

"Well, that's just great." Bobby, already angry and upset, snarled out the words. "Fat lotta good you are." He glared at all of them. "Get out." Then he turned to face the windows of his hospital room, angry and sullen.

Cassiel looked at the Winchesters, both of whom were watching Bobby with sorrow in their faces. "I am sorry." Bobby was not his charge, but he was clearly vital to the well being of the brothers, which made him a valuable asset for Cassiel.

"Yeah, well. It is what it is." Dean heaved a sigh. "Thanks for tryin'."

"You're welcome." He sensed Dean's dismissal, the brothers turning to each other, and left.

He had plans to make, and he would need Castiel's input.

 _ **Author's Note:** He's back! But still not okay. And they have a long road ahead of them._


End file.
